Here are the innards

... of my beloved radio which has attached me to the world through 35 years of adventures and mundanity, has woken me for work, sent me to sleep and sung to me when I've been ill. When it recently stopped working I took it apart and tried to see what needed doing to repair it. Briefly I got it working on batteries but as soon as I plugged it into the mains it went completely dead. I gave up on it. 

I took a photo of it to Freegle it to someone who understood electronics then I couldn't bear to advertise it.

Today it occurred to me that the problem might be a loose connection on the on-off switch so I took it apart again, rather more thoroughly than last time, checked for free-floating wires (none, to my surprise), made sure the moving parts moved smoothly, cleaned a third of a century of dust out (including, I suspect, some Harmattan sand along with the moth residue and specks of red paint) and very carefully reassembled it. The aerial still doesn't sit properly and it's still silent held north-north-west but when I keep it flat, it knows its Radio 3 from 4.

I have very gently put it back on the bedside table and I hope for a little more time with it.